A Terrible Loss
by Melimsah
Summary: Danny never told his parents that he was Danny Phantom, Public Enemy 1. So what happens when his father finally corners him… and cuts him down? Rated T for bloody death and lots of grief. Please R
1. Not Like This

**Danny Phantom: A Terrible Loss**

**Rating: **T for violence, blood, all that good stuff.

**The Usual Disclaiming: **My plot, not my world or people.

**Summary:** Danny never told his parents that he was Danny Phantom, Public Enemy #1. So what happens when his father finally corners him… and cuts him down?

**Author's Note: **I was growing sick of all the stories that are completely S/D or D/D or any of those other pairings where there is tremendous loss and tragedy, but it only affects them. What about the families, the friends, all the people that loss can affect? This is that story.

**Chapter 1: Not Like This  
**

* * *

Jack clutched the Fenton Cutlass in his sweaty palms, staring into the wide, fearful eyes of the Ghost Boy as he stood back against the wall of the dungeon, ghostly tendrils covering his mouth, arms and legs, making him unable to move. The old ghost hunter smiled. He was more powerful than this ghost; he was just about victorious! He would save Danny and Sam and Tucker and show that he truly was a great ghost hunter. He gripped the cutlass tighter. All he had to do was eliminate this boy. Public Enemy #1 had gone too far this time. He was now Personal Enemy #1.

The ghost boy shook his head, trying to say something through the ectoplasmic goo covering his mouth. He looked so frantic, fearful.

"Don't try to reason with me, Ghost Boy," Jack said. "This is the final straw, kidnapping my son and his friends. You must be destroyed."

There were muffled outcries from the children behind him. Jack refused to take his eyes off of the defeated ghost.

"It's over…. NOW!" Jack screamed in full-on rage. It took over him, his vision turning red, and he thrust forward with the cutlass with a cry.

It sliced into the ghost child's stomach like a knife through yogurt. It slid deep into it, until the hilt pressed against the black material of his jumpsuit. The boy's face went fully white, eyes wider than ever, breath caught in his lungs.

The children behind him gave cries of horror. Jack supposed it was just too violent for their own good. He pulled the blade back, and it slid slowly out, each inch revealing more red blood. He swung back the last inch or so, causing the boy to fall forward. Jack watched triumphantly the moment thankfully stretching out as long as possible, so he could cherish this victory.

But as the boy got closer to the floor, something changed in him. There was a bright ray of light that seemed to burst from the bleeding wound, creating a ring of white around him. It split into two, one traveling up to his head, and the other to his feet. As it moved, the black of the suit morphed into white, stained with red blood. Jeans materialized, the white ghostly skin changed to pale human skin. And as the light traveled up the boy's face, Jack's smile of victory vanished, becoming a look of horrible disbelief as his saw glowing green eyes become blue, white hair become black. There was a thud as the body finally landed face-down on the floor. The sounded echoed in Jack's ears like a gunshot through his heart. All breath left him as he stared down at the fallen form of his young son… But it couldn't be…

There was a horrible, high pitched cackle behind him as time went back to normal. He spun around to look at the three captured children… but only two were floating there now, Sam and Tucker. They were staring back at him with huge, tearful eyes. In the third spot, where Danny had just been, hovered the dark silhouette of possibly the most evil-looking ghost Jack had ever set eyes on. It had wide, red eyes, and a grin that showed many sharp, pointed teeth. It laughed even louder, eyes locked tightly to Jack's. It floated towards the old man, who found himself frozen to the spot in horrible disbelief.

"Congratulations, Jack Fenton…" it said in a shrill, evil voice.

"Wh…where's Danny?" Jack managed to croak out. The activation of his voice sent some warmth into his body. "Where is Danny?!" he suddenly spat.

"Are you blind?" the ghost asked coolly. "Is that not him bleeding to death at your feet?"

Jack's eyes darted to the boy on the floor. Blood was pouring freely from the wounds that pierced his stomach and back, pooling around him and staining that familiar white shirt a deep maroon. Jack shook his head in disbelief. It couldn't be him!

"It's a trick…" he choked out. "You're tricking me! Tell me where he is!!"

"Danny Fenton… Danny Phantom…" the ghost hissed. "You really think it's coincidence that the two names sound _so_ much alike?"

A cold sweat had broken out on Jack's forehead, trickling down past his ear. He shook his head again, staring in shock at this horrible-looking ghost. His eyes flickered beyond its dark, slightly transparent form to look at the two friends. His eyes locked with Sam's, and his heart shattered into pieces as she looked away, sobs racking her body. Once more, he shook his head.

"No… No…" he gasped, his knees starting to give beneath him. The ghost swept forward, coming so close to Jack's face that he could feel its cold, unearthly energy pulsating against his skin.

"You lose…" it said in its shrill, evil voice. Jack opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but all voice, all breath, all thought eluded him. It was nothing but the slow, freezing realization of what was happening. The ghost reared backwards, cackling manically, and then became a spiral of energy, and vanished from sight, leaving behind a horrible, all-encompassing silence.

Jack found himself completely unable to move, staring numbly into the space that the specter had just inhabited. He stood frozen, as though his limbs had become stone. Through his peripheral vision, he saw the beams of ectoplasmic energy binding Tucker and Sam vanish with a pop, and the two fell hard to the floor.

"Mr. Fenton…" Tucker said after pushing himself up to hands and knees, voice horribly strained. Jack didn't look at him, his eyes dropping to the sword still gripped in his gloved hands. It shone brilliantly with streaks of glossy maroon blood that pooled on one edge, dripping over the side like ruby tears to the stone floor.

"It's not true…" his voice shook as he whispered, turning his head to look down at Danny's fallen form, at the growing pool matching the rivers on his cutlass. "Please tell me… it's not…"

No one answered him. No one seemed to need to. The silence said everything. Something completely broke inside Jack, tearing straight down his heart and soul. With a cry of complete and all encompassing anguish, he swung the sword away, the sound of it crashing into the opposite wall resounding around the room like a devil's shriek. Jack threw himself to the floor, bending over his son's body. He held out his hands, tears blurring his vision, almost afraid to touch the boy, afraid that the mere contact will cause his life to end right there. He finally allowed his hands to grasp Danny's shoulders, pulling his broken body over. Blood trickled from Danny's lips, his brilliant blue eyes locked away from the world behind eyelids. Jack slipped his shaking arm underneath Danny's neck, pulling him close, holding him tight, as though hoping that if he held his frail body tight enough, it will keep him from slipping away…

"Danny…" he mouthed wordlessly, staring down into the teen's pallid face. He was still alive, Jack could see from the way Danny's mouth gulped down precious air, the way his forehead scrunched up against the pain, the way he trembled in Jack's arms. The father lifted his hand to his own mouth, biting the fingers of his black glove and yanking it off, then dropped his bare fingertips to Danny's face, grazing along his soft cheek, feeling the cold sweat that settled there.

"Danny," he finally croaked out audibly, his fingers trailing upward into his child's beautiful black hair. A sob racked the old man's body as he entangled his fingers into those dark locks, leaning in closer. "Oh, God, Danny…"

Danny's eyes fluttered open, revealing those amazing blue orbs that his father had always been proud he'd inherited. They gazed unfocusedly at Jack, who broke down into even more sobs as he stared down into their pained depths. This was his son… his own flesh and blood…. What had he done?

"Danny," he wept, pleaded. "Danny I'm so sorry. Oh, God, I'm sorry."

Danny swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. Only a small sound came out before a wince passed over him and he clutched his eyes closed in pain. Jack pulled his dear son closer, resting Danny's head in the curve of his neck, cheek nestled against the boy's forehead. A horrible sick feeling rose in his stomach as he felt his son's blood soaking his orange jumpsuit.

"Don't talk," he murmured against Danny's chilling skin. He hugged Danny as tight as he dared without hurting him more, rocking slightly from side to side as though the boy were just newly born again. Jack let his hand fall from the boy's hair onto his neck, kneading desperately for a pulse. He felt it, a slight rhythm under the skin. A very slow rhythm. He choked back another cry and pressed his lips against his dear son's head in a kiss. "Just… just hold on," he gasped. Oh please, Danny… Please, just hold on…"

From a distant corner of his mind, Jack was aware of a voice frantically talking… Tucker calling for help. Sam had found her way over to the two of them, kneeling helplessly on the other side, violet eyes shining with tears. One of her hands gripped Danny's pale fingers, the other pressed his wrist, feeling the same fading pulse Jack felt. And Tucker's voice kept tuning in and out like a bad radio reception. "…bleeding from his stomach…abandoned warehouse….hurry….not make it…."

It was all so unreal. A voice in Jack's head kept screaming over and over: _This isn't happening. It's a horrible dream. Just wake up…_ But somehow he knew it wasn't a dream. The blood soaking his knees was too real, the feel of his son's shaking form, clamming skin, short labored breaths, was all too real. His son… his only son… he had tried to kill his own son…

Almost as if on cue, the tenseness in Danny's body as he fought to hold on began to ebb. His breathing was becoming even more shallow, even more far between. Any color that remained in Danny's cheeks vanished. Jack cried out in horror, holding Danny tighter.

"No! Danny! Don't give up, son! Please don't! I love you! I can't lose you! Danny!"

Meanwhile, the voice in Jack's mind had begun a different chant.

_Murderer… Murderer…_

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**A/N: **What do you think? I'd appreciate any feedback you may have, and please enjoy the rest of the story. 


	2. The Waiting Room

**Danny Phantom: A Terrible Loss**

**Rating: **T for violence, blood, all that good stuff.

**The Usual Disclaimer: **My plot, not my world or people.

**Summary:** Danny never told his parents that he was Danny Phantom, Public Enemy #1. So what happens when his father finally corners him… and cuts him down?

**Author's Note: **I was growing sick of all the stories that are completely S/D or D/D or any of those other pairings where there is tremendous loss and tragedy, but it only affects them. What about the families, the friends, all the people that loss can affect? This is that story.

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Waiting Room**

Time drew a long, cold breath through the life of Jack Fenton. It seemed as though hours were passing, days, months, centuries, as he held the limp form of his dying son in his arms, waiting for help to arrive. The paramedics made their presence known to Jack's grief-stricken mind when they had to struggle to pull Danny away from Jack's desperate grip. They pulled him away, laid him on a stretcher, checked vitals, forced air into the young boy's lungs with a pump, calling here and there for instructions and items, a bag of blood, bandages, electroshock machine. Jack sat in a numb stupor, each second melting together with the next. He didn't feel like he was alive anymore. All feeling had been sucked from him, all understanding of the world. This couldn't be the world, the real world. No world, no God, would allow something as horrible as this to happen to him…

No power would rip his precious son away from him… not like this…

_Murderer…_

The blood-stained floor of the warehouse soon melted into the sterile-smelling interior of the ambulance. Voices were bursting all around him in his stupefied state, but he hardly registered them as speaking English. The sentences they were saying couldn't be in any language he knew. He refused to recognize their statements, their discussions of how much blood he had lost or which vital organs may have been ruptured or whether or not his heart rate was rising or falling. None of these words seemed to say anything. All Jack could do was stare at the ghostly pale face of Danny, sprawled on the stretcher, breathing tubes down his throat and bloody latex gloves waving all around him.

_Murderer…_

The hospital rose up after eons of waiting, doors opening with bright, burning light against the dark night that engulfed them all as they stepped out of the ambulance. The medics pulled out Danny's stretcher, and with a sprint wheeled him forward through the automatic doors into the glowing depths of the Emergency Room. Jack ran after them, not wanting Daniel's beautiful face to leave his sight. But as they approached another set of double doors, two big nurses stepped into his path, mouths moving without intelligible language, and yet Jack understood he was not allowed any further. He watched helplessly as they wheeled his only son away to the operating room, the doors swinging closed, stealing him away from view, leaving Jack, Sam and Tucker standing there in a helpless daze. The nurses showed them the way to the waiting room, chanting unemotional and rehearsed words of support, stating that they would keep them updated on Danny's condition. Jack sat heavily in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, misery taking him over completely.

"M…Mr. Fenton?"

Jack blinked a few times and turned slowly toward the voice's owner, Sam Manson, Danny's best friend. Her watery purple eyes looked lost in deep sorrow and regret. She looked away from his stare, as though they were accusing her of something. But in reality, Jack was the one they were accusing.

"What happened?" Jack croaked in an unsteady voice. "What happened after the three of you were kidnapped? What did that ghost do to my son to make him look like that ghost boy?"

Sam looked even more forlorn now. She shook her head at her shoes, avoiding his gaze.

"He… didn't do anything to him. Danny _was_ the ghost boy…"

"He always has been," Tucker added feebly. "Ever since the accident…"

"Accident??" Jack repeated numbly.

Sam opened her mouth to say something, but then the doors to the Emergency Room rolled open with a ding, and a shout resounded through the cavernous room.

"Where is he?! _Where's my son?!_"

Jack looked up to see the curving form of his wife darting towards them, followed by their daughter, Jazz. The first pulled the hood of her jumpsuit back revealing her bobbed hair and wide, fearful eyes. Jack felt his heart rip into more pieces at the sight of her. He was staring at the woman he loved more than anything in this entire world, the woman he chose to share his life with forever, the woman that bore his children, bore Danny… Tears poured freely from his eyes.

_I betrayed you, Maddie…_

She closed the space between them and skidded to a halt as she saw him, sitting there covered in Danny's blood. Both hands clasped to her mouth as she looked up and down his red-stained orange suit, weeping openly.

"Oh god… no… Danny…" she wept. Her eyes trailed up from the blood stains, joining Jack's gaze. A long, horrible moment passed as the two of them stared into each others' eyes. Her eyes asked every question that still held her heart together – where was Danny? Would he be alright? Would he live? Jack trembled in renewed sorrow, sobs threatening to take him over again. He tore his gaze from those piercing violet orbs and bowed his head.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry, Maddie."

"What?" Maddie whispered, the tense horror of a mother who realizes that her worst fear may be coming true. She stepped closer, kneeling before her husband, forcing him to look at her. "What are you saying, Jack?"

Jack couldn't speak. Maddie's breath halted, staring open-mouthed at him, shaking her head in horrible disbelief.

"Please, Jack… What are you trying to tell me?" she demanded, tears glistening in her beautiful eyes. Jack watched them flooding, and fought to say something, anything.

"I… It… it's all my fault…" he finally whispered, averting his eyes away from hers, staring instead at her cheek. Her face grew more pale, her fingers still clutching his knees tightly from where she knelt on the floor. He closed his eyes, and in his mind he could see it all playing out again. He could see the blade driving into the stomach of the ghost boy, could feel it still in his hands as he pulled it out, and watched, as he had over and over again since it occurred, the ghost child transforming into his own beloved child, lying bleeding on the ground. Jack shook his head, renewed tears streaming down his cheeks as he heard that other ghost's laughter ringing inside his head.

"If he… if he dies…" his voice faltered. He was afraid to say it, though his mind wouldn't stop saying it. A huge part of him felt that if he were to admit it out loud, then it would be completely true, and the possibility of this being just a dream would vanish forever. He swallowed hard and looked into his wife's horrified stare. He gave a sob and pressed a hand to his eyes. "I'll be a murderer…"

"It was an accident, Mr. Fenton," Tucker said sternly.

"How is it an accident?!" Jack shouted. "I shoved a fucking knife into his gut! How is that—!"

"You what?!" Maddie gasped in horror.

"You didn't recognize him!" Sam protested. "He wasn't Danny to you! He was a ghost!"

Maddie looked from Jack to Sam and back. "A ghost?! But how? How could…?"

"Oh God…." Jazz whispered. "Oh, God, Dad, you didn't…"

Jack burst into full on sobs now, burying his face in his hands as Maddie turned to survey her daughter. She could clearly see that Jazz knew something she did not. Jazz stared back with tears in her matching violet eyes.

"He was Danny Phantom, Mom," she said softly.

"He was… WHAT?!"

"Danny Phantom," Jazz repeated in a stable voice, though her body shook slightly.

Maddie looked completely lost. All this time the two of them had spent obsessing over the ghost boy, seeking his destruction, blabbering on about what their weapons could do to him should they ever find them… all that time, they had been hunting their own son? The world didn't seem to make sense anymore. She turned slightly on her heels, her legs then sliding out from under her as she rested her rear end completely on the floor, pressed up against Jack's legs.

"How could he be the Ghost Boy?" she asked in a far off voice, staring at nothing in particular.

"It was an accident," Sam said softly, "with the Ghost Portal, just a little over a year ago…"

The two broken hearted parents looked up at the teens standing before them, all three of whom seemed to know what they didn't.

"It… it did something to him," Tucker continued. "It gave him powers, ghost powers. He wasn't quite a ghost, but not quite human anymore, either. He could switch back and forth, from Danny Fenton, to Danny Phantom.

"But why didn't he tell us?" Maddie asked. "Why would he keep this from us when he was in such danger?"

"He was afraid," Jazz jumped in. "Afraid just as I was that if you two were to discover this, you would no longer see him as your son, but as just another science experiment, just another ghost to mess with. This is why… I never spoke up…" Jazz's voice broke as sorrow and regret took her over.

"Not just that, I think he also was afraid you wouldn't understand him and what he was trying to do with his powers," Sam said. "He helped so many people, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. He saved so many lives, all of ours on more than one occasion."

"He felt as though he was making a difference," Tucker continued. "And he was. He really was. And I doubt he wanted to give that up. I think he felt it gave his life meaning."

"As much of a risk as it was not to tell you, he was willing to take it, if it meant saving innocent lives. I think… if he were to go… it would be through doing what he lived to do… being a hero…"

Maddie gave a hard sob and rested her head on Jack's knee. Jack could only stare numbly before him. Everything seemed to be twisted and flipped upside down. He clutched his hands into fists as silence took them all over, the conversation ended, the children taking helpless seats beside them, waiting for whatever news that came.

"_If he were to go…"_ Sam's voice echoed in Jack's head. He swallowed hard.

_Oh, God… please… please don't let him go…_

Hours passed by slowly, none of them speaking. People came in and out of the Emergency Room doors, more people in pain, being pulled through the same doors that Danny had gone through, more families experiencing similar trauma around them, and the five of them fought to do whatever they could to keep time going. Tucker spent the time on his PDA, numbly playing whatever computer game could take his mind even a little off of things. Jazz blindly read magazine after magazine, while Sam took every magazine she finished and absentmindedly tore at the edges of the pages, staring into nothingness. Jack and Maddie sat next to each other, holding one another, trying to find some comfort in each others arms as they waited... and waited…

And then those double doors opened, revealing a short, mustached man in blue hospital scrubs holding a clip board. He did not look happy to be there as his eyes darted over the charts in his hands. He looked around at the waiting room.

"Fenton?" he asked carefully.

Jack and Maddie were on their feet faster than they'd ever moved in their life. They rushed forward as the three teens got to their own feet, but remaining where they were. They watched the two parents reach the doctor, and somehow, though they were far enough away that they shouldn't have heard him, his voice rang like a megaphone in their ears.

"I'm sorry… we lost him…"

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**A/N: **….have nothing really to say, other than give me any feedback you might have, and continue on


	3. Gone

**Danny Phantom: A Terrible Loss**

**Rating: **T for violence, blood, all that good stuff.

**The Usual Disclaimer: **My plot, not my world or people.

**Summary:** Danny never told his parents that he was Danny Phantom, Public Enemy #1. So what happens when his father finally corners him… and cuts him down?

**Author's Note**: This Author's Note is dedicated, in a way, to a certain Jessica that commented on the story so far. (I say "certain" because she's an anonymous reader, and face it, there are waaaaay too many Jessicas in the world). I have to commend her for expressing her opinion, and I wish to, I dunno, stand up for my piece. While I value every criticism I receive, I did not fully understand how she could call my characters out of character and how I could possibly ruin the "fun of the show." True, you're definitely not likely to see this sort of thing occur on the show, it's definitely not light-hearted and funny like the show, you're probably not likely to see Jack as completely internally destroyed, and certainly at this point it seems so hopeless and painful with that cliffhanger of an ending (I'm a master at them, no?). But all of my stories have to do with the "what ifs," you know, while trying to remain in character and in canon with the show. So, what if Jack were to finally defeat the ghost boy, only to realize it's his son? Does anyone else think that he wouldn't be so completely crushed and devastated, think himself a murderer? Though he's a very absentminded, doofus of a father, he's still a father nonetheless, and I don't know any father whose world would not be torn apart if something like this were to happen. Now if I REALLY wanted to go out of character with him, I'd have him kill Sam and Tucker in a maniacal rage, then turn the blade on himself, but not before screaming "Poodles!" really loud. :P Now THERE'S a story for you.

In a nutshell, I like putting my favorite characters through lots of pain.  You can tell if they're my favorite characters by how badly they get hurt. Clearly, Danny is quite possibly my favorite character of all time. (Actually, Robin from Teen Titans is, but that's another, alas unfinished story). This is _my _fun with the show during its hiatus, and I can see I'm not the only one. But Jessica, if you ever come back to read on out of hate-filled curiosity towards this story, I'm not really attacking you. Thank you so much for your honesty. I'm glad you at least thought I could write effectively. That was my goal. ;)

And of course, thanks to all the other replies I've had! I'm glad everyone else enjoyed has enjoyed the story so far (in a manner of speaking… heh heh), and I hope you like this next chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 3  
Gone**

_We lost him…_

Time seemed to move so slowly for all of them as the sentence hung frozen in the air, drowning out every other sound and feeling and reality. In numb disbelief, Jazz watched her mother crumpling to the ground, Jack joining her in a failed attempt to keep her upright. The mother's wail of absolute grief was lost to the echoing darkness encompassing the teenage girl as the full force of the moment fell hard on her own shoulders, nearly causing her knees to give out as her mother's did.

"Danny," she whispered to the darkness, realizing that the void growing more vast within her was where he had just been. Every single memory they had had together seemed to jump into her mind all at once: seeing him for the first time at the age of three. the jealousy and battle for attention that had barred their relationship for years, the rare but tender moments of cooperation, painting pictures together, sharing smiles, sharing laughter. A howl threatened to escape from the deepest trench of her heart, but somehow she managed to contain most of it inside, allowing only the smallest sob to leave her lips as she began moving forward, almost outside her own free will. She made her way slowly, carefully even, up to where her parents sat, the two of them blocking the doorway into the depths of the hospital beyond. The physician still stood there, staring down at the couple grieving at his feet, almost unsure what to do.

"Please, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton," he told them in a calm, soothing voice acquired through much practice. "You need to get out of the way of the door. I can take you to see your son, just please, get up."

Jazz knelt down beside her sobbing parents, their weeping mirroring the same sorrow inside her, but something kept her from joining them completely there on the floor, lost in mourning. Something told her she had to stay strong for them. She almost felt it was her responsibility… after all, she never told them about Danny's powers…

"Mom? Dad?" Her voice wavered as she spoke. She swallowed hard and gripped her mother by the arm. "Come on. Let's go see him… let's go…"

Something in the girl's voice seemed to break through to the older woman; she allowed her daughter to help lift her to her feet, her husband following, aided by the doctor. Jazz helped steady her crying mother before they began to move toward the double doors.

Then Jazz stopped. She looked behind her and saw Sam and Tucker still standing by their seats, the raven-haired girl remaining upright just barely by the bespectacled boy. Though tears fell from their eyes, they both seemed beyond sorrow. Tucker's eyes met with Jazz's, and she could see the conflict there. The two of them didn't know if they should go with them, perhaps thinking this was strictly a family trauma, and they'd be butting in where they didn't belong.

"Come on," Jazz said gently, motioning with her hand for them to follow. "You're his best friends. You're as good as family."

* * *

The march down into the depths of the hospital seemed to take an eternity. None of them spoke to one another. They all seemed to hold their breaths throughout the journey, listening to the beeps of heart machines in passing rooms, doctors and nurses running around as though everyone in the hospital were still alive. Tucker found himself shivering with every step they took, his fear of hospitals horribly strengthened and renewed. Blood pounded in his ears as they traveled deeper inside, knowing that each step grew him closer to being forced to accept the truth. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed the tears from his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't… 

In the darkness created by his fingers in his eyes, Tucker suddenly saw in his mind's eye Danny's good-natured face raising an eyebrow at him.

"_How is it that I have ghost powers, and you're the weird kid?"_ he said with a laugh.

Tucker hiccupped and replaced his glasses, fresh tears flowing over his cheeks already.

_It just isn't happening…_

He was knocked out of his thoughts violently when he plowed right into Jazz, who had stopped suddenly before him. His entire blood stream seemed to go cold as he realized they were standing in a long room, lined with beds and curtains. The doctor had paused before one, and after taking a short, affirming look at them all, began to pull it open.

Time felt like it was standing unbearably still again. All breath abandoned Tucker's chest, somehow his diaphragm failing to respond to any pleas of oxygen from his brain. His eyes wouldn't even blink as he stared down at the gray, lifeless face of his best friend.

It was eerie. It was hard to believe he wasn't just sleeping. His eyes were closed, and he looked so… so peaceful. Tucker's shaking doubled, and he gripped Sam's arm to keep him from collapsing.

"My baby…" Mrs. Fenton whimpered, moving around to the other side of the bed. She stretched out a wavering hand, gently brushing some hair from her son's face. "Oh, Jack…" she moaned, spinning into her husband's arms, and he held her tight, tears streaming silently down his cheeks as his wife sobbed into his orange, blood-stained jumpsuit.

Jazz had made her way closer to the bed, outstretching a hand and gripping her brother's. A visible shudder passed over her, and Tucker could only imagine how cold Danny's skin must be. There was no way he would try to find out. He just wanted to stay back at a distance…

Something touched him, and a jolt of electricity shot up his rattled nerves. He looked at his hand gripping Sam's arm, and saw her fingers on his. He looked up at her, their eyes meeting and somehow he telepathically understood what she wanted. She wanted to get closer, but wanted him there with her. Tucker gulped and allowed Sam to lead him forward, so they were standing next to Jazz.

"I'm so sorry," Sam whispered to the other girl, putting an arm around her shoulders. Jazz dropped her head to the side, allowing it to rest against Sam's shoulder in half a hug, and, surprising to Tuck, Sam followed, resting her own on Jazz's red hair.

Tucker suddenly felt alone. The odd one out. He just stood there, staring down at Danny's ghostly white face. Part of him wanted to cry out in despair, but slowly he began to realize that a far greater part of him felt more like screaming in anger. He felt such a rage rise within him. At what, he did not know. At God? At the World? No, he was angry at Danny. He wanted more than anything to shove Sam and Jazz out of the way, grab Danny by the shoulders and scream in his face: "_This is not how you're supposed to go! You're not supposed to leave us! You're Danny! You're Danny Phantom! You can do anything! You're not supposed to die!"_

"Excuse me."

There was a collective jump as everyone was snapped violently out of their bereavement. They looked towards the source of the voice, and saw not the mustached doctor, but instead a stocky, balding man in a collared shirt and pressed pants. Behind him stood two police officers, and all three of them looked very serious. The bald man's steel gray eyes surveyed all of them before landing on Danny's father. The man looked the other up and down, eyes pausing on his blood-stained jumpsuit.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I know how much grief you all must be in." His voice was cool, indifferent, as though he didn't care a flip how much grief they were in. His eyes trailed back up to Jack's face. "Jack Fenton?" he asked. The bigger man nodded, face having gone almost as pale as his son's as he looked at the two officers standing there. The bald man flicked his wrist, and the cops began moving forward.

"What's this?!" Maddie gasped, clutching to her husband for dear life.

"Jack Fenton, we have a warrant for your arrest. Please, stand back, miss."

"On what charge?!" Maddie's old fire had suddenly sparked up again, and she stood between Jack and the cops, the look in her eyes so fierce that the two men actually paused in their advance.

"Murder." The detective's eyes darted down to the boy laid on the bed before looking back up at the woman. "Someone overheard your husband admitting to it in the waiting room a couple hours ago, and just now called it in after learning of the boy's fate."

"It was an accident!" Tucker suddenly jumped in, seeing a different source for his aggression. "Mr. Fenton wasn't trying to kill Danny!! He was trying to save us from Danny Phantom, who IS Danny! He just didn't know it!"

The detective turned to Tucker, taken completely aback.

"What are you talking about?" he asked dangerously, as though daring the boy to lie to him.

"It's true!" Jazz gasped. "Danny has ghost powers! Our dad was tricked into thinking that he had kidnapped Sam and Tucker but in reality it was another ghost! Dad is innocent!"

"Look, kids," the detective spat. "I have orders. If you can _prove_ that he was the ghost boy, then get it ready for court. We're taking Mr. Fenton now."

"Look, you!" Maddie growled. "We've just lost our only son and you're asking us to let our husband go when we need his support more than anything?? I wont let you take my husband away from me!"

Jack shot a hand out and gripped Maddie's shoulder, causing her to look back at him. His face was still white, but he looked stern and serious. He pulled his gaze from Maddie's and looked up at the detective.

"I'll go with you quietly."

"Jack! No!"

Maddie turned fully around and pressed her hands on Jack's chest, as though to stop him from running eagerly forward into the cops awaiting handcuffs. Jack gripped his wife's wrists, looking deep into her eyes.

"I don't want to cause any more trouble," he said softly, eyes dark and defeated. "We'll work things out."

Maddie gaped up at him, her heart seeming to break another time over as the cops stepped around her, getting on each side of the large man. She threw her arms around him, and Jack hugged her back in a huge bear hug.

"I love you," she wept into his suit. "And I always will. Nothing will ever change that."

Jack pressed his cheek against Maddie's hair, eyes closing as he seemed to pull those words in, unable to speak the same himself. The cops seemed to have grown impatient. They each grabbed one of his arms, ripping them away from Maddie and twisting him so he faced the wall beside Danny with his arms behind his back. One of them murmured the Miranda rights as the other snapped handcuffs on him. They all watched in disbelief as they marched the man slowly away, allowing him just enough time to stop and take one last look back at them. His eyes lingered on his fallen son, and then flickered up to his daughter, who stared at him with wide, tearful eyes.

"I love you, Princess," he said softly. "I love you both." His eyes darted back to Danny, and then he was led away, leaving the four of them standing there in a numb stupor.

"Tucker?"

Tucker looked over at Sam, who stared back at him with a strange sparkle in her eye.

"Do you still have that video on your PDA?"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, another chapter is on its way! I hope you like the way this is all going… tee hee…. Aren't you glad I didn't just end it with "We lost him?" I can't believe you all thought I'd be that cruel! As usual, let me know what you think! 


	4. Newsbreak

**Danny Phantom: A Terrible Loss**

**Rating: **T for violence, blood, all that good stuff.

**The Usual Disclaimer: **My plot, not my world or people.

**Summary:** Danny never told his parents that he was Danny Phantom, Public Enemy #1. So what happens when his father finally corners him… and cuts him down?

**Author's Note**: I am SO SORRY you guys, about how long this chapter took to get written and put up. And it's for a really stupid reason, which I'll tell you about later. But I have this one and the entire next chapter written, and I hope they were worth the wait. I wanted to get the feeling down right. So, enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think!

* * *

**Chapter 4:  
Newsbreak**

The alarm clock exploded with an annoying buzzing long before dawn, and Valerie Gray quickly shot her hand out to silence it before it woke up anyone else. She blinked through groggy eyes at the little green numbers that spelled out "5:30." Almost on cue she heard the newspaper truck's loud brakes screeching to a halt down the street, a door slamming as the paper man stepped out of the car to fill the vendor sitting on the corner of their street, next to the Starbucks. Valerie rolled out of bed and crept to the window, watching paper man's large silhouette in the dim lighting of the street lamps, waiting for him to hurry up and finish. She fumbled at the nightstand beneath the windowsill for her jewelry box with the secret compartment full of quarters, quickly pulling out two, along with her key to the front door. She then grabbed her coat and her shoes and stepped gingerly to the door of her room, turning the knob ever so slowly and letting the door swing silently open. She made sure to spray the hinges each night with Pam so they wouldn't squeak and wake her father up.

It had been the same routine for a few weeks now. She was under house and news arrest after sneaking out in the middle of the night to ghost hunt against her father's wishes, getting caught by police when she accidentally fell on an old lady's car during a 1 am pursuit of the ghost boy, Danny Phantom. Her father had lost it, destroyed all her ghost-hunting equipment, forbade her from leaving the house except to go to school (which he drove her to and from), and not only did he cancel their newspaper subscription, but also set a time block on the TV barring Valerie from watching any news programs. It was his attempt at breaking her ghost-hunting addiction, but Valerie could not give up on her quest to get rid of the ghost child that ruined her life. Every morning she walked down to the corner, peeked into the news vendor, and knew that if something along the lines of "Ghost Boy Strikes Again" appeared there in huge letters, she would be buying it. It was her experience that the Amity Park Bugle didn't post information on the Ghost Boy anywhere but the front page. The newspaper hated the boy as much as she did.

She made her way out the front door and down the steps of their apartment building, two at a time as quietly as she could. She bounded out the front door, wrapping her coat tightly around her against the autumn wind and made her usual way down the street to the coffee shop. She held her breath as she walked, hoping, praying to see something, anything. She craved for news, crave for a peek at something to fuel her fire. A part of her felt like she would disappear if she were to give up.

She rounded a small corner and found herself facing a small army of vendors – both town papers, a nightlife bulletin, and several apartment listings. She bent next to the blue Bugle vendor, and saw the words Danny Phantom jump at her. She didn't even pause to look at the headline: she was already shoving her change into the machine, tugging hard on the handle the whole time, not nearly patient enough for the change to be registered by the machine. Finally, the lock gave way and she thrust her hand inside to pull out the paper.

What she saw was not at all what she expected. In fact, the headline that took up the entire top half of the paper, the half visible to her, did anything but feed into her rage. Instead, it dampened it with an icy cold blanket.

"Danny Phantom Revealed to be Local Boy in Death"

"What?" Valerie gasped in disbelief, snapping the newspaper straight. Lines of small print appeared below the headline, along with a photo.

Valerie's heart stopped dead.

She was staring into the familiar, smiling face of Danny Fenton, that stumbling, nerdish boy at school she had recently become great friends with. She gaped down into his bright blue eyes, into that kind face. She blinked, her mind going blank in numb shock. It didn't seem to want to register at all…

…_Local boy… Danny's picture… Death…?_

Her eyes began to skim the article, and as every word was absorbed into her retinas, her entire body seemed to grow colder, her stomach sicker, her knees weaker.

"Investigation into Saturday night's death of local Amity Park teen Daniel Fenton has revealed that his father, Jack Fenton, may not be the real culprit. Startling evidence has been revealed by the victim's best friends and sister that while the father did indeed stab the boy, the boy was in fact not human at the time, but rather the most famous ghost Amity Park has ever seen, Danny Phantom.

A video given to the investigating detectives by Tucker Foley, 15, shows Fenton's transformation into the Ghost Boy, complete with footage of the boy's powers, and even going so far as to show him not terrorizing the town, as this paper has often reported, but rather fighting and capturing malicious ghosts threatening our city. Further investigation has compared the DNA of Fenton with that of Danny Phantom's ectoplasmic goo. Results show an exact match.

Questions have arrived as to how Fenton could possibly be the ghost boy. No experiment conducted by the Men in White or other ghost organizations has ever produced a human-ghost hybrid before.

'It was a fluke,' explains his sister, Jazz Fenton. 'He received his powers during an explosive accident in my parents' lab last year, with the Ghost Zone Portal. He never told my parents, and his friends and I never did either, out of fear that they would no longer view him as a son, but rather as a ghost to be experimented on.'

Jack and Maddie Fenton are notorious in the community for their failed pursuits of the Ghost Boy during the height of public fear, as well as their all-encompassing obsession with ghosts in general. It would make sense that, not knowing his true identity, Jack Fenton would not hold back from attacking his own son as a ghost, especially without prior proof of the existence of ghost hybrids.

Jack Fenton is still up for trial this Wednesday, but with the new evidence in his favor, and through reports of eyewitnesses and even some captured ghost witnesses, may have the case dropped as either manslaughter to the lowest degree, or an act of self defense or defense of others.

A memorial for Daniel Fenton will take place at 11:00 am on Thursday at the Vekman Funeral Home"

Valerie stared open mouth at the newspaper for the longest time, her head shaking back in forth in disbelief, truly unable to believe a single word it had told her. This had to be some kind of joke, or dream. This couldn't be true. Absolutely couldn't be. Danny was a kid, a kid her age, one of her best friends, one of the kindest people she knew. He could not have been a ghost. He couldn't be dead!

But something inside her knew the truth… knew it with a heart-shattering strength.

_Danny… _

She slid slowly to the ground beside the vendor, one hand clasped to her mouth, her entire body beginning to shake as the reality of it all set in. So many images popped into her head all at once. She thought about how they first reconciled their differences to pass that stupid flour sack assignment, and then going to how they grew to become friends, how they nearly became a couple. Every good emotion she had ever felt toward him, all the happiness she had felt around him, all the time she felt accepted after losing all her friends, feeling like she had finally found a true friend, someone who would look after her no matter what…

And then she saw her chasing a boy looking so much like him, she realized. Same physique, same face, same voice, even, just echoing. White hair instead of black, green eyes instead of blue. She remembered all the horrible things she had tried to do to that boy, all the horrible things she had said to him. The months of obsessing over his destruction…

How could she have been so blind?! She clutched the paper even tighter. How could she have wanted him gone, destroyed?! What if _she_ had done it?! She could easily have killed him herself!

Killed… dead… he was dead…

He was dead!

"NO!" she howled loudly, pressing her face into the front page of the newspaper, sobs completely taking her over now. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening!

_Not happening…_

* * *

Valerie's father awoke to a sound outside his window. He grumbled in his half-awake state about the darn kids on their street. He lifted his head just enough to glance at the clock. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, on a Monday no less! He didn't' want to be awake. He coughed and dropped his head back to his pillow, rolling away from the clock and closing his eyes, trying to will himself back to sleep.

But he couldn't. There was something bothering him in the back of his mind, something tugging on the edges of his sleepy consciousness, begging to be noticed. He wondered what it was.

Then, suddenly, his little girl's face swam into his thoughts, and his eyes snapped open.

"Valerie?" he grumbled. He sat up and put his glasses on, then headed for Valerie's room.

She wasn't there. A small spurt of horror filled him. Where had she gone? Did she run away? Had someone kidnapped her, the Ghost Boy perhaps? But then as he was just about to go into a panic to find her, his eyes glanced over at the window, a familiar blue jacket catching his eye in the light of dawn. He stepped closer to it, and sure enough, he could just barely make out the form of his daughter on the corner, sitting next to Starbuck's newspaper vendor with a paper in her hand. A flare of anger spurt through him.

"Valerie…" he said dangerously. Oh, that girl was in so much trouble!

He grabbed his coat and shoved his feet into his shoes and stormed down the stairs. He threw open the front door and stood on the stoop of the apartment building, staring down the street.

"VALERIE!" he screamed down the block, knowing full well that in the stillness of the early morning, she would hear him. "VALERIE! YOU GET BACK HERE NOW! YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!"

She didn't move. She didn't even waver. His anger intensified. "DON'T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE!"

Still she didn't move. He rolled up his sleeves and began to stomp down the sidewalk and across the street toward her.

"Damnit, Valerie! Do you have any idea how many rules you've broken! Oh, girl, by the time you're done being grounded, you'll… you'll be…"

As he got closer, he became aware of the sound of sobs. His anger dwindled a bit, his steps faltering slightly. She was crying? Did he startle her that badly? He was soon standing right over her, and words seem to fail him at what he was staring at. His little daughter was sitting propped against the Bugle's newspaper vendor, holding the paper to her chest like a teddy bear, crying openly. He furrowed his eyebrows in question and concern, then glanced through the glass of the vendor.

"Danny Phantom Revealed to be Local Boy After Death."

"It was Danny…" Valerie wept softly, as though being able to sense her father's confusion. "Danny was killed…"

Mr. Gray almost opened his mouth to ask if she was crying because she hadn't done it herself, but then she pulled the paper away from her and he could barely make out the picture on the wrinkled, tear-stained paper. Understanding hit him hard. It was her friend Danny, Danny Fenton.

"He… he was the Ghost Boy?" he gasped incredulously.

"He's dead!" Valerie sobbed. "He was the only boy who ever… he was so nice… but he's…"

Mr. Gray stared down at his daughter, stunned. He couldn't believe it. That boy, that ghost boy who brought them down so low… that had been the kind boy who had stuck by his daughter after it all happened? Mr. Gray knelt beside her, gingerly taking the paper from her hands and pulling her into a one-arm embrace while he read the article. Every sentence written didn't seem to coincide with the convictions he'd had in his mind about the ghost child or ghosts in general. Half-ghost? And Jack Fenton killed? He read the paper with incredulity. This couldn't be real. It had to be a fake. A tabloid. But no, it was indeed the Amity Park Bugle. He had always trusted them.

He dropped the paper numbly, staring out into the street, sitting beside his broken-hearted daughter and holding her tight to his chest.

"It's going to be okay, Valerie," he said softly. He didn't know what he meant by that – it wasn't like his daughter's friend would come back to life. He felt a rush of pity and remorse for her. All that hunting for the Ghost Boy, and all this time, she had been hunting someone whom, as a human, she trusted more than anybody. He rubbed her arm and rested his chin on top of her head, rocking her a little as though she were a child again. "It's going to be okay…"

* * *

**A/N:** I don't know how to write a newspaper article. Is that a stupid reason for taking so long, or what? I was so lacking confidence in my newspaper article writing skills, that I didn't want to continue the story. How lame is that? But then I was like, you know what? I wanna tell this story, and people wanna read it! If I don't do it right, then I don't do it right. Screw it. So, yeah… just don't critique me on that newspaper article. It's the rest of the story I care about… Let me know what you think, and enjoy chapter 5! 


	5. A Memorial for Danny

**Danny Phantom: A Terrible Loss**

**Rating: **T for violence, blood, all that good stuff.

**The Usual Disclaimer: **My plot, not my world or people.

**Summary:** Danny never told his parents that he was Danny Phantom, Public Enemy #1. So what happens when his father finally corners him… and cuts him down?

**Author's Note**: I posted this chapter and chapter four at pretty much the same time, so make sure you read that one before this one, those of you who are awesome and have this story on your alert list! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 5:  
A Memorial for Danny**

Later that morning, the whole of Casper High School was abuzz with soft, hushed voices, retelling the story again and again. The Ghost Boy was Danny Fenton. He was now dead. Gone. Forever. Those who never even knew him felt the pang of loss. And those who did know him, whether through his human or ghost form, felt the pang much worse.

"He saved us once," said one boy, a sophomore with freckles and a gap in his teeth. "My whole family. A humongous snake appeared and tried to eat us all, and he saved us… I wish I could have thanked him. We could have died…" His friends, who had heard that story many times before but hadn't once believed it suddenly believed it now. They nodded their heads solemnly, and even wanted more than anything to hold and console the distraught boy, but due to social norms, had to merely nod like teenage boys do.

The shadow of death even fell upon Dash Baxter. He wasn't strutting around the halls as he did before, picking on the weak for their lunch money. He was walking slumped a little with his fellow jocks, in sort of a daze.

"I just can't believe it," he said to the gang for perhaps the tenth time. "I can't believe that all this time I had been wailing on Fenton, I'd been wailing on a hero! Who knows how many times I beat up that kid, and yet, he was still willing to save my life. Several times…"

"I know…" said Kwan, who also seemed lost in the darkness that shrouded the entire school.

"I mean, you know, it really makes you think…"

"What? About your own sense of mortality, or fear of death?"

Dash looked at Kwan, a little dumbfounded by the other's sudden insightfulness. "No, just about how I could have such a respect for the ghost kid and absolutely none for Fenton, even though he was the same person! If I had known that Fenton was the ghost kid before... Perhaps…"

Dash's voice trailed off. His footsteps faltered to a halt, as he stared right past Kwan at the lockers. Kwan raised an eyebrow at him.

"What're you looking at?" he asked, waving a hand before Dash's far-away eyes. Dash blinked and looked at the other jock, then pointed.

"It's his locker," he said very quietly, as though he were standing in the middle of a cemetery. Kwan turned to look. The locker looked like any other locker.

"Oh yeah? How do you know?"

"The dents from the times I slammed him into it," he answered, stepping closer to it. "See this big one here? Right next to the number? That's from when I just narrowly missed his head a month ago during one massive punching. I sprained my finger, in fact, and his locker has never closed properly since. It's how I know where to wait if I felt like hurting someone."

Kwan raised an eyebrow. "You memorized that much?"

Dash merely shrugged his shoulders. "A good bully always remembers these sorts of things." He wasn't smiling, though, as he would have if he were telling this story last week. He merely stared at Fenton's locker, knowing that Fenton would never be back to open it again. Dash just felt like a wet blanket had fallen upon him, heavy and cold with understanding.

"He's really gone, huh…" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yup…"

"I've never known anyone who's died before."

A long silence passed between them. Others in the hallway had realized what he was staring at, whose locker that was, and had stopped as well, hushed voices silencing as they stared upon the locker of the dead boy, the ghost boy, the hero of the town who lived a normal life in their very own school without their knowledge. Dash especially felt the pain. He felt something he really hadn't felt before, or if he had, he had largely ignored it. He could only suppose it was shame, or guilt. Something inside him wished desperately that he could apologize to Fenton for all he had put him through, for all the bullying. The kid was a hero. A true hero… Dash would never have picked on such a hero as Danny Phantom…

_If only I could make it up to him_…

An idea struck him. A "Eureka!" moment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sharpie that he had swiped off of his math teacher's desk the previous week. He uncapped it and stepped to the locker and wrote, right on that biggest dent:

"Hey Fenton,  
I'm really sorry for all the crap I put you through.  
If I had known you were the ghost kid, I probably wouldn't have.  
Danny Phantom 4ever!"

No sooner had he finished when Kwan snatched the marker from him and began writing his own message. Another kid stooped beside them and with a bottle of white-out, began drawing a ghost in the bottom corner. Paulina, with tears shining in her eyes, pulled out a tube of lipstick from her bag.

"It cost me thirty bucks, but it's so worth it," she said with a strained voice, taking Dash's place and getting started on a big pink heart, in which she wrote "I Love You, Danny Phantom."

By the time school let out that day, the entire locker had been covered with more notes of admiration and well wishes than Danny had ever received in all ten of his yearbooks combined. People had begun writing in miniscule in the tiny pockets between others' notes.

* * *

Mr. Lancer sat quietly slumped over at his desk that morning, before classes. The only thing that kept him company in the dismally silent classroom was the clock with its infernal _tick-tock_ that drove him crazy during these sorts of silences. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into the corner of his eyes, emotions overwhelming him. In all his years of teaching, he had never lost a student like this. No car accidents, no cancer, nothing. This was his first. He had dreaded this day, ever since he started teaching. He knew it would happen sooner or later. He just couldn't believe it now that it had, and who it was…

The boy's face swam within his mind's eye, that constantly tired-looking boy. Now he understood why that boy seemed so exhausted, why such a bright kid had fallen so far behind in his classes. Leading a double life like that, taking it upon himself to help a town in as much danger as Amity Park seemed to get into constantly… it was just beyond Mr. Lancer's belief that Danny had done so much at the expense of his own well-being, for the good of others, to the point of losing his own life. A shudder ran through him at the very thought. Danny had been much more than Mr. Lancer could ever hope himself to be…

And Lancer thought of the kids who were to walk into class, and sit down, with that one chair empty… what would he say to them? Would he be able to carry on with today's lecture? Would he be able to teach at all without losing it? As a teacher, he wasn't supposed to show weakness, but what now? A student lost… Death in his own school… it was just about more than he could bear…

There was the sound of running outside the door. Lancer looked up at the clock and saw that there was still ten minutes left. There was shouting and more running. He knitted his eyebrows and stood up, wondering what could be going on. Teachers' habit driving him, he walked to the door and opened it.

"Hey, you kids! No running in… the…"

His voice cut short, as he saw a big group of students standing in the distant hallway. A small rush of worry pulsed through him. Did someone get hurt? Was there some major vandalism in the hallway calling attention to himself? He left the classroom and walked down the hall.

"What's going on?" he called ahead of him. The kids all jumped, snapped out of a kind of stupor, and some gasped and began to run in the other direction. Lancer realized that, indeed, it was some kind of vandalism. There was writing all over a locker! What kind of stupid child…

But then he saw the word "Fenton," and his footsteps ceased. His mouth fell open as he found himself staring at a makeshift memorial right there where the young Daniel's locker had been. There were words of respect, appreciation, sadness, regret, and loss written all over it.

"_The Once and Future King…"_ he swore under his breath, his eyes taking in the sight with emotions bubbling up again. He could see some bare spots, where those who haven't left their respects could still. A sudden urge shot through him. He tried to fight it off – it was vandalism. It was against school policy. He could get fired… but he didn't care. He took out his green permanent marker, kept right next to his red one, and stood on tiptoes to reach to a top corner many of the young high schoolers couldn't reach, not caring about those who still stood there, watching.

"Daniel,  
I had always known that you were meant for great things.  
Little did I know you were already there and doing them.  
Rest in Peace.  
Mr. Lancer"

"If they fire me, I won't care," he said softly, almost to himself. "He was a great kid…"

* * *

**A/N:** Before you start asking or suggesting – there is absolutely NO pairings truly implied here that isn't part of canon DP! EVERYONE knows that Paulina had a big stinkin crush on the ghost kid, so hence her reaction, and Dash is not gay for Danny, so don't even think it (even thought that's, oh, half the literature under Danny Phantom on And if I hear one Lancer/Danny remark, I just may have to kill Sam and Tucker off, too. Okay, I'm just kidding. I'm sure you all understand how wrong the idea of Lancer/Danny is…

Okay, so, what did you think? Do you think I got Dash's and everyone's reactions done well? It may take a bit for me to get to chapter six, because, well, in all honesty, I'm not sure where I'm going from here. But actually, I just came up with this particular chapter last night in my own "EUREKA!" moment, and I'm sure that will happen again before long. :D Review, and stay tuned for Chapter 6!


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